The Legend of Boltheart
The Legend of Boltheart By BCEngine Two worlds are apart. Friendships can never be between these '' ''worlds. A bloody war rages on around them. And nobody can '' ''bring these worlds together. Until today. Prolouge Honeyrose was nothing but a gold streak against the dark forest. Her kits were just born. And they were after them, her and her kits, threatening to tear them apart, limb by limb. Dogs. The mewling kits cried out for warmth. How could there be any warmth when the only feeling is cold death? Honeyrose fought the urge to turn around and fight back. This was her first litter! She had seen the dogs as she gave birth. When they came closer, she leaped up and scratched one dog's face. This enraged the beast and aroused it's taste for blood. But as she ran, something didn't seem right. She seemed lighter as she ran with her kits in her mouth. She counted the fragile, dangling kits. '' ''One. Two. Three. Four. Five. No, wait a minute! Honeyrose gasped. Where's number five? Oh, no! I've dropped my fifth kit! The dog stopped in his tracks. He saw the innocant kit, mewling and crying for milk. Something flowed through him, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Sympathy. He ever so gently picked up the kit in his mouth, his warm breath seizing it's shivering. He gracefully ran after Honeyrose. "Wait! Wait!" He mumbled through the kit's fur. "I have your kit!" Honeyrose didn't stop. She kept running. The dog stopped and set the kit down. He called his mate, who had given birth a few weeks ago, over. "Give the kit milk," he whispered. "His mother ran away." "I will," Said his mate. She settled down and guided the kit to her belly. "I shall return him tonight," The mate said. "And I will leave a coded message to their leader." Time slowed for the kit as he suckled. Milk? He was suckling before but on a different milk. This milk was thicker in a way, richer. He felt his strength rising. He felt bold, he felt energetic-and he felt the need to open his eyes. The mate dropped him off at the entrance of the Flightclan camp. "Now, young kit, please remember this. Please remember this so we can end this everlasting war!" The kit blinked, his green eyes glowing. The mate licked him warmly. A sharp hiss made her jump. She spun around to see three cats adavancing on her. "We don't want any trouble. Just give us the kit!" "You don't understand," The mate lowered her ears. "I am giving him back! For a cat of gold has dropped him." "Yea, right," One orange cat growled. '' ''"Hush up, Heatglare!" One cat snapped. But as he turned to breifly thank the dog, she was already gone. A small bone was beside the kit, strangle lines gnawed into it. The cat gasped, for only a leader like him could read this code. It was clearly enscribed in the bone. Boltkit. Chapter one "Boltkit!" Honeyrose called her son. "Get ready for your ceremony! Now!" "Aww, mommy!" Boltkit said. "I was protecting the Nursery from evil badgers!" By "evil badgers" he meant his father and grandfather. Even though his grandfather, Grassear, was an elder, he was fit and fast and knew lots, but tended to be slow and old-fashioned, which Boltkit didn't like. "Come on, Boltkit," he father, Silverdrop, mewed and playfully butted him with his nose. "You'd better get ready!" "Not until I take you badgers down!" Boltkit ginned slyly. "Look here, son," Grassear meowed. "If you defeat me, the almighty leader of the badgers," He raised his voice a bit when he said this and puffed out his fluffy chest, "You won't have to get ready. But if I win, you'll have to. Deal?" "So sayeth the prophecy!" Boltkit said and jumped toward his grandfather. But the quick old-timer had a trick up his fur. He dodged sharply to the left, and Boltkit plopped into a patch of moss. "I'll get you!" He hissed playfully and once more took Grassear head-on. But he once again dodged, and Bolkit tumbled onto the ground. Grassear then ran foward and pinned Boltkit down. "Ha, ha! I, the leader of the badgers, have defeated you!" Then he began to lick the side of Bolkit's belly, which he knew was quite ticklish. Silverdrop joined in. Boltkit squealed and laughed. "Stop! Stop! I surrender! Nohoho! Stohop!" Grassear seized in tickling his grandson and let him up. Silverdrop brushed some dirt off of the little kit's dazzling tawny gold and brown coat. He knew under all of that rough dirt was a pelt ready to shine brighter than any star. The little kit bowed his head to his grandfather. "I, the leader of the nursery, surrender to you. I shall now commence in fulfilling the prophecy." He began to lick his dirty pelt. "You still have a lot to learn about battle son. You have to know what your enemy's expectations are." Silver drop said. "But I already know about battle!" Boltkit mewed. "You run at your enemy and beat him up! And I already know my enemie's expectations. To take me ''down." "Yes, but theres more to battle than just beating up a cat." Silverdrop said. "You need to know some cats weak points. Their peeves. Then you use those peeves as a strategy to take them down. For instance, you and your belly." He smiled and poked Bolkit's side gently. Boltkit growled. "Don't tell anyone!" "Of course I won't," His father meowed. "Anyway, you also don't just take your enemy head-on. There's more to it than that." "Like what? "Oh, you'll learn this from you're mentor. And you need to look like you actually want to receive your mentor." Silverdrop Finished licking the dirt off Boltkit's pelt. A deep voice boomed, "All cats who are old enough to cats their own prey, come to the Highrock for a clan meeting!" It was Owlstar, the leader of Flightclan. When the cats gathered, he cleared his throat. "Today, five kits have reached the age of six moons, and shall receive their new names and mentors. Dapplekit, Rainkit, Boltkit, Leafkit, and Strikekit! Step foward." The kits stepped foward, tingling with exitement. Dapplekit, Rainkit, Hollykit and Strikekit were his siblings. Owlstar looked at Strikekit, who was standing there, as proud as could be, his white chest fluffed up. "Strikekit," Owlstar meowed, "You have now reached the age of six moons, and shall now receive your mentor and apprentice name. You now will be called Strikepaw. May Starclan look down upon you and guide you in your training." Strikepaw beamed. "And your mentor," Owlstar continued, "Is Heatgaze." Strikekit respectively touched noses with his new mentor and walked off with the bright orange tom. The same speech was repeated four more times. Boltpaw's green eyes lit up when Owlstar neared the part of the speech when he was to receive his mentor. "And your mentor," Owlstar meowed, "Will be Grassear." Boltpaw cocked his head. ''Why would my grandfather be my mentor? He's an elder! I mean, sure, he's still fit and strong, but he's too slow too much! Grassear stepped up and touched noses with his grandson, the sun making a bright outline on his thin but sturdy, brown furred form. The two walked off to begin training. "First, Boltpaw," Grassear said, "I'll teach you to listen." "Listen?" Boltpaw was confused. "Yes. Listen. I'm going to teach you to listen around you." Grassear beckoned his son to sit. This is going to be sooooo boring! ''Boltpaw sighed in his mind. But he obeyed his mentor. "Now, close your eyes and listen for the sounds," Grassear said, and demonstraigted by closing his eyes and moving his ears around. Boltpaw groaned. "But Grandpa! You're supposed to be teaching me battle moves! And how to hunt, like all the other mentors! And-" "But I am not "other mentors" now aren't I?" Grassear said, and said nothing more. This took Boltkit back. "What's this supposed to teach me, anyways?" "To listen. That's why I'm telling you to hush. Now sit." He said. Boltpaw did as told. Grassear continued, "Lower your breathing so it'll be easier for you to listen. Pick up a sound, be it the most obvious sound in the world, and listen to it. Try and find another sound ''inside ''the sound." Boltpaw sighed. Sometimes Grassear didn't make sense. Chapter 2 It had been half a moon since Boltpaw was assigned to Grassear. He had been listening with him for weeks. He was ''way ''behind all of his friends, who were catching mice and learning the advance hunter's crouch. "Wow, Boltpaw," Hawkpaw, one of his best friends, said. "I feel bad for you." "Thanks," Boltpaw mewed. "After training today he said he's going to teach me something different tomorrow. It was still dark out when Grassear woke Boltpaw up. "What! What!" The young tom yawned. "Hush now son, you're wasting time! Come on, wake up." Grassear whispered. "I said I was going to teach you something different yesterday, didn't I?" "Yes, but I didn't think you'd mean hours before dawn!" Boltpaw whispered back, annoyed. They walked to the same spot they always did for breathing exersises. Grassear had him practice this before, after, and several times in between listening pracice. "Steady pace, Boltpaw. Steady breathing. Slow and stready." Grasser trilled. Boltpaw was fed up with all of this. "Whith all due respect, Grandpa, this isn't teaching me anything!" He meowed. "Breathing and listening are not going to get me through life!" Grassear replied, "You need to breathe to live, don't 'ya? That'll get you through life. And you have to listen for prey and for enemies so you can catch prey to eat and live and defend yourself to live. Both of these skills will be sharpened by practicing them." "But-" Boltpaw was about to complain again but Grassear gave him a look that seemed to stare him back into practicing breathing. After a long practice, Boltpaw flopped onto his nest. A voice made him snap his head up. "Not too good of a trainging session, huh?" But the voice was familiar. Stepping out of the shadows, Silverdrop licked his son's pelt. "Yea, another breathing exersize that seemed like moons before dawn!" Boltpaw said. "Don't worry, son," Silverdrop mewed. "It'll get better. I promise." "How? Boltpaw asked. "Your grandpa taught me everything I know," Silverdrop answered. "He's a great teacher, son." Boltpaw wasn't convinced. Something in his dad's eyes told him otherwise. Chapter 3 Another breathing and listening exersize, at night, hours before dawn. Boltpaw was getting annoyed by this. He should be learning how to hunt, catch and hunters crouch! He was so behind, he might as well go back to the nursery. He wasn't learning anything! He knew how to breathe and to hear. Why couldn't Grassear understand that? Suddenly, a loud screech rang through the air. Every cat was in the front of the camp, snarling and hissing. A rank smell filled the air as huge brown beasts charged in. Dogs! "Guard the queens and kits! Someone get to the elders!" Owlstar yowled. "Boltpaw! Stop!" Grassear yanked Boltpaw's tail as he was about to go for an ash colored dog. The one he was going after turned and charged toward Boltheart, malice in his eyes. He felt an immense pull on his tail as he was hauled backwards. A brown blurr whizzed by him, as the dog howled in pain. It was Grassear! He had leaped up, kicked the dog with his back legs with claws extended, and while the dog's head was down, he had landed on his back and raked the back of his neck. "Boltpaw! Get to the Elders den! They're headed for them!" Grassear yelled. ''Figures he'd want me going there, ''Boltpaw thought, rushing to the Elder's den. One dog was there, it's ragged, reddish pelt flying in the wind as it ran to the elder's den. Taking a deep breath, he unsheathed his claws and jumped high into the air. ''Finally,some action! ''He thought. He felt so alive. He was fnally going to proove to his grandpa that he was ready for battle training. He would proove himself as a warrior to the clan, Just as he was about to rake the dogs neck, time slowed. Boltpaw didn't know what was going on, but he felt a rich, buttery sensation on his tongue. It tasted like the milk from his mom when he was a kit, but, no, it was richer, fuller in a way that he felt slightly drowzy. He felt more limp, like his body was shrinking, and his claws bcame sheathed. Smaller and smaller he seemed to grew, as ominous words made him freeze in his tracks: ''"Help stop this never ending war!" He dived beside the dog, clumsy like a kit, and bounded in front of the dog. It snarled and raised a paw, ready to rake his throat out. Boltpaw held up his own, but with his claws sheathed. It was a sign of paws. "Wait, just, wait. We can solve this reasonably." SNarling once more, the dog barked, "Why would I ever speak to a Clan cat? After what you did to us?" "What did we do to you?" Boltpaw urged, a tone of calmess in his voice. WHY AM I DOING THIS? ''He asked himself, but his mouth grew a mind of its own. "Tell me now, and we can solve it reasonably, to help stop this war between our-" The dog let out a crying yowl as Owlstar ran up and ran his claws down the dog's back. It ran away, with the rest of its pack. Owlstar then wheeled on Boltheart. "Were you WITH THEM?!" "No, Owlstar, I wasn't!" Boltheart replied, rage swelling inside of him. Why would his leader ever accuse him of something like that?" "You were conversing with that dog," Owlstar yowled. "Either you were with him or taunting him. Why were you talking to the enemy?" "I was asking what we did to the dogs to make them hate us!" Boltpaw replied. "We can stop this war!" "I don't know... I just don't..." Owlstar studied Boltpaw closely. "Still, we can't take any risks. You will help the elders for the rest of the day tomorrow, starting at sunhigh." He announced, out loud, to everyone within earshot. Giggles swarmed the air. Humiliated, Boltpaw ran away. Once he was out of earshot, a yowled a curse to the sky. He was so angry, so angry he thought he might burst. Nobody understood him. ''He ''didn't even understand himself! "Why did I stop and talk to that stupid dog?!" He clawed a tree over and over, tearing the bark off, his paws burning with pain and rage. He was so confused and twisted, twisted between two worlds. He jumped up into a tree and remained there, ashamed to show his face. ''Maybe if I just stay up here, everyone will forget me. Breathe in and out, ''He thought suddenly. ''Breathe in and out, with good posture. ''He figured that maybe he coud think straight once he cleared his head. ''I'll just go to the elders den, and help the elders very quickly. I'll be through with it if I just make m work quick. TBC